Delightfully Irresistible
by Team Jem Carstairs
Summary: Jack has always thought about the Doctor in that way, but it takes a surprise for the Doctor to see that Jack is nothing if not delightfully irresistible. *Two-Part Slash*
1. Surprise

**Hey, everyone! This is my first real slash fic, certainly it's my first Doctor Who slash, and I'd appreciate any feedback! That is, REVIEW, my lovelies!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All credit to David Tennant (Mmm), John Barrowman (Mmm), Stephan Moffat, Russell T Davies, and all others who make this show possible. Also thanks to Echo317, my greatest love, who read this before I published it and encouraged me to write it. You go.**

"Jack?" the Doctor asked hesitantly. The captain was nowhere to be found, though the Time Lord could hear Jack calling his name, albeit quietly. If he was asking to be found, he wasn't doing it very well. The Doctor knocked on Jack's bedroom door and whispered, "Jack? Are you in here?"

The door swung open, and sure enough the room was empty. Still, the Doctor could hear Jack, closer than before but not there. The next room, perhaps? As far as the Doctor remembered, there was a small sitting room there, but the TARDIS shifted floor plans so often he didn't know anymore.

He tried that door. "Jack? Is that you?" There was some answering noise but no definitive _yes_, so the Doctor strolled in. Despite having known Jack for quite a while, the sight that greeted him was shocking, to say the least.

As it turned out, it still was a sitting room, and the lights were off. With a combination of light from the hall and a Time Lord's ability to see in near perfect dark, much like a cat, no detail was spared. It was Jack, sprawled on a couch, his pale skin nearly glowing and his eyes closed. Bliss flew over his face and his hand moved faster, faster, stroking his hard cock.

"_Jack!"_ the Doctor cried, more out of surprise than anything else. Jack's eyes popped open and he slowed down, though he didn't stop and made no motion to cover himself up in any way. "What– what are you doing?"

Jack grinned. "Look, Doc, you may not have a line of women waiting for you to pleasure them, but I'm pretty sure you're experienced. Not innocent, at any rate. You have to know what _this_ is," he said, gesturing at his lap.

A flush spread from the Doctor's neck up to his hairline, though he didn't quite know why. The shock had almost worn off, it wasn't really _embarrassment, _but he couldn't quite give it a name.

"Well, you're right, I suppose," he conceded. "But why does it have to be in my TARDIS?"

"Want me to go outside?"

"No," the Doctor said vehemently. "But _why?"_

"Why am I doing this? Worst question ever, because every boy who's hit puberty knows the answer. You, for example, are sort of doing the same thing. Look down."

The Doctor glanced down to where the fabric of his pinstriped trousers was suddenly tight. His traitorous fingers, against his will, had begun rubbing the bulge and even as the logical part of his mind protested, a sudden rush of hormones told his hand to keep going. "Well, I–" He cleared his throat. "I–"

"No words, right?" He hopped off the couch, finally releasing himself, and made his way to the Doctor's side, replacing the Doctor's hand with his own. "I think you've been waiting too long for this," he murmured.

"Did you plan this?" the Doctor gasped as Jack slid his zipper down.

"Surprisingly no, but I've been dreaming about it since… Well, since I met you, actually. Come on, Doc, loosen up. Live a little."

"You're just quoting every cliché you can think up, aren't you?" the Doctor snorted, but he let out a sharp hiss when Jack slipped his hand into the Doctor's trousers. "Blimey, Harkness…" He couldn't say anything else, because there was a hot mouth covering his own and a tongue trailing along his lower lip. He parted his lips and gave entrance, but Jack pulled away to kiss his neck, nipping a string of bruises down the hollow of his lover's throat.

_Lover._ The Doctor savored the word in his mind, the sweet, smooth, butterscotch ring it had. It vanished quickly, however, because he couldn't quite process the full meaning of it. Was he going to allow this to continue? The answer was a resounding _yes_. Was it going to happen again? He didn't know, but the feel of the immortal's strong hands stroking down his chest was deliciously tempting.

The scent of Jack's pheromones was heady, intoxicating, and the Doctor wasn't about to drag this out more than he had to. Normally he was one for a long, drawn-out, bordering on romantic kind of tryst, but this was still a little weird for him and honestly, he was already painfully aroused. He pulled away from Jack's hands and lips. "I can't take you seriously when I still have my socks on," the Doctor muttered to Jack's amusement.

The captain was strangely content to stand there and watch his Doctor strip, blushing all the while. "So why'd you come barging in on me if not to join in, Doc?"

"Oh," the Doctor stalled, clearly torn between a serious answer and a cheeky one as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Well, er, you know. I heard you calling my name, so I thought you needed me…"

"Needed you, no. Wanted you, yes."

"Hang on." The Doctor froze, trousers puddled around his ankles, that brilliant look on his face: realization. "Bloody hell, Jack. You think about _me_ when you… eh? To the point of _calling my name?"_

"Sure," Jack shrugged, unabashed. "Besides, it's not like you don't do the same thing. What about three nights ago, hm? What was that?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," the Doctor said stiffly.

Jack sighed deeply, more for show than anything else. "If you will recall, three days ago your bedroom was right beside mine, and I've gotten myself off enough times to recognize the sounds. I do believe, in between the moans and groans and squeaking of the bedsprings, that I heard my own name. Funny, huh?"

"Yes, yes, you're delightfully irresistible. Can we get on with this?"

"Oh, _now_ you're all over me, aren't you?" Jack laughed.

"Right I am," the Doctor murmured, completely naked now, as he leapt forward to take Jack's face in his hands and kiss him fiercely. They were tightly wrapped up in one another when Jack started rocking his hips forward, thrusting against the Doctor. The Time Lord moaned at the friction.

"Couch. Now," Jack ordered, pulling the Doctor along, pushing him to the couch, and falling on top of him. He kissed his lips, along his neck, down his chest, and was finally eye level with his erection, which he promptly swallowed.

The Doctor panted and writhed under the ministrations of Jack and his marvelous tongue. He spread his legs without thinking, his carnal desires and primal instincts taking over for the intelligent part of his brain (a rather large portion of it to have fallen to such a mundane desire, but then again, even Rome had to fall sometime). "Jack, Jack, oh my Jack," he moaned.

Jack winked and pulled away from the Time Lord's cock, meeting his lips instead. The Doctor tasted himself in Jack's mouth, something that aroused him even further. "I want– you– inside me– now," the Doctor panted between sloppy kisses.

"Something I've been waiting to hear for _years,_" Jack breathed, sucking on his fingers for a moment and slipping one into the Doctor. The man sucked in a breath as Jack added another, and the third was really almost too much… The key word being almost. It had been simply decades since he had been with a man, and while the discomfort wasn't new, the pleasure certainly was. The feeling of being full was too sweet, especially since it was _Jack_ with his tongue in his mouth and his fingers pleasuring him so exquisitely. Jack, the immortal captain. Jack, who had died for him. Jack, his dark hair damp with sweat and his blue eyes sparking. Jack, whose face was stained red. Jack, who was quickly running out of stamina.

The fingers vanished, and the Doctor groaned in displeasure, though that was remedied when they were replaced with something a lot better. There was pain thrumming at the base of his spine, but Jack knew that and stayed still, letting the older man adjust. After a minute, the Doctor bucked his hips forward, unable to stand the lack of friction any longer. "That's more like it," Jack grunted, holding the Doctor's hips and thrusting into him.

The Doctor wrapped his legs around Jack's waist. "Harder," he gasped.

Jack's answering laugh resonated through his entire body, though the Doctor couldn't quite hear it over the sound of his own labored breathing. "You're a whore," he stated in a husky voice, somehow making the derogatory term sound sensual. He looked down at his Doctor (he rather liked thinking of the man as "his", especially now that he had truly claimed him), breathing hard and flushed a pretty pink. He usually described the Doctor's hair as defying gravity, but right now, it fell over his forehead in soft brown sweat-dampened waves. His chocolate brown eyes were filled with so much lust.

"Oh, because you're just a chaste being," the Time Lord muttered, then inhaled sharply when Jack's cocked brushed his prostate. "_Oh_, Jack."

"Say my name again," Jack growled; hearing his name said in such a breathy voice turned him on, it always had. He slowed his thrusts, making them long and deep instead of quick and shallow. It was a particularly effective if diabolical method; it made even the Doctor whimper.

The long thrusts were consistently battering a sweet spot deep in the Doctor's body, and he cried out in unmitigated pleasure. "Jack!" he shouted. "Jack Harkness, God, I can't take this for too much longer!"

"You like it though, don't you," Jack said in the same low growl. It wasn't a question. "Were you always such a whore? Did you always spread your legs so readily? Did you always beg for it, for a long cock to fill you up so nice? Hm?"

"Never like this," was the answering moan. The muscles in the Doctor's chest, lean though they were, tensed and relaxed in a pattern. His slender hands were gripping Jack's shoulders, nails digging into soft skin. His lips were parted, breath coming shallow, hearts beating staccato, eyes closed. Jack reached between their bodies and gripped the Doctor's cock, his sweaty palm sliding over the shaft in a way sure to make the Doctor come.

"J-Jack," the Doctor stuttered, pleasure tripping up his tongue. "I can't– I'm going to–"

"Wait for me," Jack warned, his own release rapidly approaching. "I'm almost–"

"No, I can't, I can't hold on!" the Doctor yelled, arching his back as he came, fire running through his veins and flowing out of him in a great flood, the white liquid splashing over his stomach and Jack's hand.

"Now is brilliant!" Jack cried, his orgasm hitting him suddenly. He pulled the Doctor as close as he could as he emptied himself in the tight heat. When it was all over, they were left shaky and weak. Jack could barely find the energy to pull out and collapse on the couch right beside the Doctor. They were crammed together in a small space, sweaty and sticky and lethargic, but still grinning.

"We're actually a pretty good match," the Doctor said finally, after having caught his breath. "The Lover and the Fighter."

"Which am I?"

"The Lover, obviously," he said as though it was stupid to assume otherwise. "Though you're not a bad fighter, honestly."

"Well, you're not such a bad lover," Jack retorted. "I've just accomplished my life's goal."

"To sleep with me?"

"To reduce the most powerful, feared, talkative man in the galaxy to a trembling, speechless pile of unexpected sex, that's what."

The Doctor laughed. "I hope you haven't been nursing this goal your whole life. Seems an awful long shot."

"Nah, only since I met you. And not so much a long shot, I just did it, didn't I? Only thing that could make it better is do it again. That is, do _you_ again. Or have you do me, that'd work too."

"That'd work," the Doctor echoed, pushing his hair out of his eyes– reminding him precisely why he gelled it up every day– and holding Jack in his arms. "It's been nice knowing you, in the Biblical sense of the word."

"You're absolutely mad, you know that, right?" Jack mumbled, his eyelids slipping closed, being lulled to sleep by the Time Lord's powerful heartbeat, hot skin– Time Lords have a higher body temperature than humans, a side effect of having two hearts– and soft voice, the perfect cadence for comfort.

"So I've heard," the Doctor murmured, sounding sleepy himself. And as it happened, the two fell asleep in each others' arms.

**...Was that any good? There'll be a part two eventually.**


	2. Deviant

**This is the end, everyone. It's over now. I'm pleased to welcome on board Sassy TARDIS. I thank Echo317 for the sort-of beta. She was the one who, basically, made me write this.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, of course.**

The Doctor had his head stuck under the TARDIS's center console, performing a few routine maintenance jobs he usually didn't bother to do. However, there was only so long he could pretend to be asleep next to Jack (Time Lords don't need as much sleep as humans, anyway), and he figured he might as well be useful. He had already discarded his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his blue button down up to his elbows. When he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, he left a streak of dirt.

_Ow!_ The TARDIS grumbled in his mind. _Watch where you're sticking that, eh?_ She referred to the sonic, which the Doctor had maneuvered into a small crevice, the better to fix a few frayed wires.

"I'm _helping_, you bloody ungrateful box," the Time Lord retorted as a blue flash from the screwdriver briefly lit up his face. "Don't want anything going wrong, do we?"

_What do you mean, 'we'? Nothing's wrong with _you_, no, _you're_ just fine. No worries about being cut up for spare parts–_

"Spare parts? What do you take me for? Besides, I need you."

_Yes, yes, it's all about the need. If you didn't need me, where would I be? In a scrap heap, that's where! You're so needy, you are. Where would Jack Harkness be if you didn't need _him_ so much, hm?_

At that, the Doctor started, accidentally jamming the sonic into what was the technological equivalent of a pressure point. In retaliation the TARDIS shocked him, prompting a fluid string of swears in various alien languages. He never risked speaking Gallifreyan, even on the TARDIS; it may have been the one language she wouldn't translate, but you never knew who was listening in, and it hurt too much to even hear the language.

He cradled his wounded hand to his chest but jumped again when he heard a voice. "You all right, Doc?" After untangling himself from the console, the Doctor got an eyeful of gorgeous Captain Jack, clad only in boxer shorts and looking down at the Doctor with something like amusement, raised eyebrow and all.

"Oh– oh, yes, I'm quite all right." He stood up and patted the smooth metal of the TARDIS. "Old girl just gave me a bit of a shock, didn't you, love?"

'_Old girl' he calls me,_ she scoffed. _You're nearly as old as I, may I call you 'old man'?_

"No you may not," he warned. "Besides, I don't show my age as you do." He grinned and turned to Jack. "Do I? Show my age, that is?"

"Well, I haven't met too many nine hundred and seven year-olds, but I can't imagine they're all as spry as you are. Kept up with me, didn't you?"

As the memories of the night before sprang to the Doctor's mind, he turned away to hide the stirring in his trousers. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what had transpired, or even that he was afraid of becoming too intimate with his companions. Well, he supposed it could be the last one, but he didn't worry about falling in love with Jack or vice versa, and since the other was immortal and a consenting, if high-strung, adult… He was just a bit afraid of losing his cool and jumping the other man, a very real possibility.

"Hey." Jack put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, not making him move but nonverbally asking to be faced. The Doctor complied, swallowing when he looked into Jack's huge blue eyes, feeling his composure weaken. "Look, Doc. We can't pretend last night didn't happen, no matter how you we may feel about it now. It might not have been the greatest idea, but…"

"Are you saying you regret it?" the Doctor asked, almost sadly. He had never considered Jack might _regret_ a decision he had made, especially one involving another naked being.

"What? No! No, no, God no. I thought _you_ were upset about it. You know, because it's so out of character for you."

"And all I'm doing is exercising every ounce of my self restraint not to just _jump_ on you right now."

Jack grinned. "Remind me why that would be a bad thing?"

"Well," the Doctor corrected. "It might not be. I can always fix the TARDIS later, after all..."

"Why, Doctor, are you proposing what I think you are?"

_Lord help us, he is._

"If you think I'm proposing to throw you down, right here, right now, and shag you senseless, you just might be right." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively as a half-smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"If I knew you were such a deviant, Doc, I might have brought this up earlier."

_I can't believe he managed to hide it for so long. He's been lusting after you for simply ages, but you haven't the faintest idea of what he used to get up to. Oh, that was years ago, but he likes to think about it still. If you knew what he does with that sonic screwdriver–_

"Yes, thank you!" the Doctor cut in loudly. He knew the TARDIS was speaking purely for her own amusement, as her words only rang in his head and not Jack's, but that didn't stop him from burning in embarrassment. Even if everything she said was true… He cleared his throat as Jack watched him, slightly concerned but generally amused. "Shall we get on with it?"

Jack sighed. "You really are the master of saying things to turn me on, aren't you? Can't get much better than 'get on with it'."

The Doctor took a few steps forward, pressing his body to Jack's and breathing in his ear. "This is what I am going to do to you," he whispered. Jack shivered, getting hard at the Doctor's proximity and the arousing sensation of hot air against sensitive skin. "I am going to push you down and kiss you. I am going to slide your shorts over your hips and take you into my mouth. I am going to prepare you with my fingers before I shag you, and I am going to make you scream my name."

Jack pulled him into a kiss then, a clumsy, awkward, furiously passionate kiss with a copious amount of tongue. The immortal was a brilliant kisser, really, all smoke and sweet liquor, but the Doctor's eagerness offset all the experience and turned them both into boneless messes. "You," he panted in the few moments they pulled apart for air, "are going to be the death of me."

Jack grinned. "I wonder if that's ever happened, if a Time Lord has ever regenerated due to sheer lust."

"Ask me that question later."

"Don't you die on me, now. I'm just learning how to pleasure this body, I'm not going to learn another one, it's too soon."

"Then put that knowledge to good use, why don't you?" Jack sighed and set about stripping the Doctor of his clothing. Nimble fingers deftly untied his tie, throwing it aside and slipping each button of his shirt out of its hole, kissing each newly exposed expanse of pale skin. He slid the gaping shirt over slim shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Next was the belt. The buckle gave him hardly any trouble at all, but he hesitated over the button to the Doctor's trousers.

"There a problem, Jack?"

"Nope, just thinking."

"Well?"

"Nothing," he sighed, tugging down the Doctor's trousers. "Just thought you were supposed to be going down on _me_ this time. Not that I'm complaining," he backtracked quickly. "I'm up for anything. But it's only fair, that's all."

"_Jack_." The Doctor pulled the immortal to his feet, one slender hand wrapped around his wrist in a surprising show of strength. They were nearly the same height, though they looked nothing alike: the slim Doctor, all animated movements, wild hair, and cheekbones, and stocky Jack, strength painted into every line of him, a chiseled face and broad shoulders. "Jack, I need you to trust that I'm going to do this for you."

"Then why are you making _me_ undress you?"

"I'm lazy," the Doctor breathed into Jack's ear, and although it wasn't a statement that even suggested a hint of sensuality, Jack shivered. "I promise, Jack, all will be right in the end."

"I hope you're right. In fact, you better be, or you are in so much trouble."

_Don't threaten him with punishment,_ the TARDIS cautioned. _He'd like that. Come on, Doctor, just get it over with. He clearly can't wait forever, and for that matter, neither can you._

"It's none of your business how long I can _last_," the Doctor replied angrily, whirling on the center console.

Jack chuckled. "What is she _saying_ to you?"

_Get on with it, Doctor._

"Bloody box," he muttered under his breath. "You just want to watch. If I'm a deviant, you're certainly a voyeur!"

"Well, I'm an exhibitionist, so we're all happy now, aren't we?" Jack threw in, slightly impatient but mostly entertained. He had been with a string of lovers over the course of his life, but none at all like the Doctor. Getting irritated with his sentient time machine was one of a thousand little things that made him unique. "Come on, Doc," he said in a low, husky voice. "Forget the TARDIS."

"She's impossible."

"If she's impossible, I'd hate to know what you think of me."

"You? You're merely improbable."

"I like those odds." Jack kissed his Doctor, hard, gently sinking his teeth into his plush lower lip. The answering yelp made him laugh. The Doctor did an awkward shuffle to kick off his trousers and Converse, leaving he and Jack in just their shorts. Slender hands stroked their way up and down Jack's broad chest, making his nerves sing.

When their hips brushed together, a surge of pleasure knocked the Doctor's knees out from under him and made him collapse to the metal grating of the floor. Jack fell with him, since they were so locked together. "Ow, Doc. At least try and stay upright, why don't you?"

"I _try_," the other man said dryly. "I just fail. Terrible lover I am, can't even keep my feet under me."

"Luckily, your merit as a lover does not depend on your standing abilities."

"Thankfully." The Doctor pushed Jack backwards and crawled over him, pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear. He moved down, showering kisses down the curve of his throat, the angle of his collarbone, the muscled sweep of his chest, until he reached the thumbprint-sized indentations above Jack's hipbones. He hooked thin fingers into the waistband of his shorts and plucked them away from his skin, just enough that he could slip a hand down. He stroked Jack's cock, getting him harder than he already was.

Jack propped himself up on his elbows to watch the Doctor, pupils blown to obscure the irises, with his hand down Jack's boxers and teasing him to full attention. His breathing came faster as the Doctor finally discarded the boxers altogether and took Jack into his mouth. It was a really hot sight, but Jack couldn't watch if he wanted to last any longer. His eyes rolled back into his head.

"Oh, _God_," he managed.

"Not God, but pretty close," the Doctor smiled, licking up Jack's cock to the base and back down to swirl around the head, which was already glistening with pre-come. He continued his ministrations, refusing to use his hands but making full use of lips, teeth and tongue.

"Doc, I– I'm going to–" Jack started to choke out, but the Doctor swiftly pulled away and wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of his cock, effectively staving off an orgasm. Jack moaned in disappointment.

"Well, I can't have you coming _now_, can I? We've got so much to do first!"

"You'll be the death of me," the captain panted.

"We've already discussed this. You're fine, you'll be fine, okay? Just let me finish you off as I please." He tentatively released Jack's cock and, when he saw he now had _carte blanche_, pushed his legs open. "Only too ready to spread your legs, aren't you?" he murmured.

"Not as ready as you," Jack shot back.

"But I'm not completely at your mercy, am I?" he asked softly, sticking his tongue out and signing his name on Jack's perineum. Jack groaned in frustration and then moaned loudly when the Doctor blew cool air, a most interesting sensation. He pulled back and rummaged through his pile of clothes until he came up with the object he desired.

"Oh, you're going to like this, Jack," he assured the immortal, who was struggling not to touch himself and had resorted to tangling his hands in his own hair instead. "I promise."

He licked the pad of his thumb and massaged the ring of muscle that was Jack's entrance, receiving a tortured moan in response. He tentatively slid a finger inside, curling it and stroking Jack's prostate, which his long digits found easily. When a second finger was added, his mouth ventured back to the head of Jack's cock, barely brushing it with his tongue but occasionally daring to suck hard. All at once he stopped everything, removing his fingers and releasing his mouth.

"You fucking _tease!"_ Jack shouted, frustration and desire making him bolder than usual and slightly looser mouthed. "You can't be serious, I'm dying over here!"

"Brace yourself," was all the Doctor would mutter in return, twirling his sonic screwdriver in one thin hand and smirking at it. "Are you quite ready?"

"Anything, anything!"

"Well, all right then. _Allons-y."_ He slid the screwdriver into Jack and flipped the switch, producing a low buzzing noise almost unable to be heard over the sound of Jack's low keening. "D'you like that?"

"Torture," came the anguished reply. "You _bastard_."

"Are you _sure_ it's torture? It doesn't feel good?"

"Too much pleasure _is_ torture." He hissed as the Doctor pushed the pulsing head of the sonic against his prostrate. "I hate you, I hate you so much. I was so much better off just getting myself off alone."

"Oh, you can't mean that," the Doctor said lightly, sitting back and pulling off his shorts, which were straining anyway. He took himself in hand with a sigh and stroked, enjoying the image of the writhing captain before him, gone mad with pleasure. Jack cried out when he saw what the Doctor was doing.

"You can get off but I can't? What's _wrong_ with you? I– _ohh_," he moaned, squirming.

"I'm not getting off, I'm preparing myself. I am going to get this over with very soon, Jack, don't worry. Watching you like this is getting me very hard, I must say. I quite enjoy it, of course, but as my TARDIS said, I'm a bit of a deviant. You're not the first on the receiving end of my sonic, you know. Used it a fair bit on myself, that's true, but I'm not the only one."

"_Why_ would I want to hear that?"

"Oh, you don't, I'm sure. I'm speaking purely for my own benefit. I like it, you know. Dirty talk. Does that surprise you?"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and lay back, arching his spine and digging his fingers into the taut skin of his stomach. "Everyone else," he said through gritted teeth, "gets off by looking at dirty pictures, or watching videos, or even reading filthy stories. I guess it doesn't surprise me that the most talkative man in the galaxy gets off listening to himself talk."

"Mm, you have such a lovely voice, Jack. Throaty, you know. Deep. Rich… Lovely voice, Jack, simply lovely."

"You say my name a lot."

"I like the way it sounds. Jack. Jack. Short, sharp, like a bite of something bitter. Dark chocolate, maybe."

"And you like biting. Yeah, you would."

"Course I do." Suddenly the melodious voice was very close by. Jack opened his eyes to see his Doctor hovering over him, pupils completely dilated, hair brushing over his forehead, lips parted– _the lower one fuller than the upper,_ Jack thought, finding some eye for detail amidst everything else. "Biting's great. It's like kissing but with a winner."

"When I kiss there's a winner."

"When I kiss there's not. Don't know what you've been doing. Anyway, I'm taking pity on you now. Partly because I do hate seeing you miserable, but mostly, I'm overtaken with the urge to shag you senseless, and that's what I'm going to do."

"_Please,"_ Jack begged, pulling the Doctor in for a kiss, but moving at the last second and nipping his neck. The Doctor moaned.

He reached down and switched the sonic off, pulling it out of Jack and putting it to the side where he could get it later, to clean it. "What do you want me to do to you, Jack?"

Realizing the Doctor wouldn't take pity on him unless he satisfied the other man's desire to hear something dirty, he complied. He was willing to do just about anything to get it over with, and besides, it turned him on a fair bit too. "I want you to take that beautiful cock of yours and fuck me with it. I want you to push my legs apart and thrust, hard enough you might leave bruises on my hips. I want you to stroke _my_ cock, and I want you to scream my name when you come."

"All you had to do was ask," the Doctor rumbled, finally entering Jack to the mutual satisfaction of both. They immediately started moving against each other; Jack was horny enough he didn't need the usual refractory period of adjustment. The Doctor was rutting frantically, Jack was bucking his hips to meet each thrust. He wound his hands through the Doctor's hair and tugged, pulling a moan from the Time Lord's throat.

"How did I know you were gonna like that? There are words for people like you, you know."

"Yeah," the Doctor panted, slipping a hand between them to stroke Jack's cock in time to his thrusting as the other man had wished. "_Deviant_."

They didn't speak after that, because pleasure clouded their throats and made words impossible. Release drew nearer and nearer until they managed to come at the same time, to the relief of both. "_Jack!"_ the Doctor shouted at the same time Jack yelled, "Doctor!"

Spent, the Doctor rolled over next to Jack, breathing heavily. His hearts were staccato, too fast, but it was glorious. "Jack…" he managed to breathe. "Jack, you are a beautiful soul, you know that? That was the best–"

"Save it, you sadist. You thoroughly enjoyed making me flail about on your floor, didn't you?" Despite his words, there was no malice in Jack's voice.

"A bit, yeah. You telling me that wasn't worth it?"

_Someone's got a high opinion of his own sexual prowess, hasn't he?_

"Shut up, why don't you? I didn't ask _you_."

_And yet I'm giving my opinion. Actually I'm not even doing that, because I can't offer any insight on whether you're a good lover or not. I've got no experience in such matters. I'm only going to point out that you're much different than you were yesterday._

"I am not different!" the Doctor scoffed.

"Different from when?" Jack asked,

"Yesterday."

"Well," the immortal hesitated, rubbing the back of his head with a sweaty hand. "I might have to agree with her there. Yesterday you were hesitant, almost shy… Today, you were… What's the male equivalent to a dominatrix?"

"I wasn't! Was I?"

"Oh yes you were. You were, at least towards the end, very in control. Or you wanted to be. You were totally enjoying yourself." He was quiet for a moment. "I did actually like the screwdriver. It was a nice touch, just stop with the _teasing_, please! I'm a weak man, there's only so much I can take!"

"Oh, you could've taken more if you had the inclination."

"Well, I haven't got it now. I need a shower." He stood up on shaky legs and started to walk away. He paused. "Hey, Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," the Doctor replied, surprised.

"And for the record? I was right."

"About what?"

"Your merits as a lover have _nothing_ to do with how well you manage to stay on your feet."

**Yes, when Jack says "some people get off by... reading filthy stories", he does mean all of you. Your mothers would be ashamed.**


End file.
